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they say I yelled
like a banshee
that day
under a tin roof
as the rain rattled down
she laid as if dead
on the bloody bed
already slipping
into indifference
the midwife
shouting
over the drumming
the priest humming
a prattling good prayer
I imagine now
my gummy mouth
screeching blue murder
while that hole
of a filthy cellar
was swept of affection.
(C) Eric Ashford July 08
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Dayton
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